


Operation: Wake Steve Rogers

by thewaythatwerust



Series: Stucky Forever! (aka, Stucky in Wakanda) [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes is Bored, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Goats, Humor, It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Gets Headbutted by a Goat, M/M, Short & Sweet, Stucky - Freeform, Wakanda, plums, steve rogers is tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewaythatwerust/pseuds/thewaythatwerust
Summary: Standing by the bed, hand hanging in the space between them -having stalled midway to its destination to shake Steve awake- Bucky pauses. He could just shake Steve until his teeth rattle, making him jerk awake, eyes going wide with confusion, or rake his fingers over Steve’s ribs and make him gasp awake and fight to push wriggling fingers from sensitive skin before the gasps turn to hiccuping howls of laughter. Or… he could make things interesting.Bucky recalls his hand, rubbing it over his jaw as he sets the mission parameters in his head.Tactical objective: Wake Steve Rogers.Operational restrictions: No personal contact.Successful mission reward: Extreme satisfaction and a prolonged debriefing session.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Stucky Forever! (aka, Stucky in Wakanda) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621651
Comments: 16
Kudos: 127





	Operation: Wake Steve Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> i. A few people mentioned wanting to know more about this line from 'Sleeping Beauty':  
>  _Bucky usually let him come to consciousness in his own time in the mornings, but he wasn't shy of using the goats as alarm clocks either; he could usually pile three or four on top of Steve before their bleating and headbutting had the desired effect. It was effective as it was entertaining._
> 
> ..so this happened.
> 
> ii. Beta-free fic. Proceed at your own risk.

Bucky is all for beauty sleep, but this is getting ridiculous.  
  


Steve had arrived in Wakanda in the breath before night becomes morning, a little bruised and a lot battle-weary. Taking pity on him when the sun peeked over the horizon, Bucky had climbed from the bed carefully, not wanting to wake him. Steve had more than earned a lazy morning after a night spent saving the world. Again.

Bucky spent many minutes, more than he’d ever admit to, staring down at Steve, memorizing the way sleep softened the lines that pressed out from his soul and pinched at his face, the weight on his shoulders finally lifting in slumber. If he squinted, Bucky could almost see past the time and consequences that had changed so much of man before him, though he knew it hadn’t made a mark on what lay beneath.

When his eyes had drunk their fill and his heart was overflowing, Bucky slipped out of his reverie and into clothes gifted to him when he'd been fresh out of cryo. He exited the hut, greeted the goats, and set to work, enjoying the purpose his daily routine provided as much as the warm kiss of sun on his skin.

But that sun had sunk low and set, and Bucky had come in from the settling darkness to find Steve in the same place he’d left him - laid out on his back in bed, sheet twisted around his body, soft snores filling the small hut.  
  


Standing by the bed, hand hanging in the space between them -having stalled midway to its destination to shake Steve awake- Bucky pauses. He _could_ just shake Steve until his teeth rattle, making him jerk awake, eyes going wide with confusion, or rake his fingers over Steve’s ribs and make him gasp awake and fight to push wriggling fingers from sensitive skin before the gasps turn to hiccuping howls of laughter. Or… he could make things interesting.

Bucky recalls his hand, rubbing it over his jaw as he sets the mission parameters in his head.  
_Tactical objective:_ Wake Steve Rogers.  
_Operational restrictions:_ No personal contact.  
_Successful mission reward:_ Extreme satisfaction and a prolonged _debriefing_ session.

Trapping the white sheet between black and gold fingers, Bucky eases it down Steve’s body. His eyes stalk its retreat, tracing over the twin swells of flesh of Steve’s chest, to the enticing path carved into the muscles of his stomach, dipping in at the waist that has no business being so exquisite on such a strong frame, and then lower to --

Bucky clears his throat, his tongue licking over dry lips as he squeezes his eyelids shut, not possessing the willpower to drag his eyes away.

Focus, Barnes. Stay on mission.

✯

Bucky settles himself on the floor, a bowl of plums beside him. Reaching into the pile, he snags one, rolls it between his fingers, feeling the firm flesh of the fruit yielding under the pressure before he draws it back, lifting to align with his check, and then lobs it at Steve.

The reddish-purple ball smacks Steve in the chest - 10 points! - before rolling down over his ribs, disappearing on to the far side of the mattress.

Bucky picks up another and takes a bite. One for Steve, one for him - who said he never shares? After three more bites, while waiting to rule out delayed reactions, the plum is gone, and he tosses the pit into the compost bucket by the door - another 10 points!

He plucks another plum and takes a bite before throwing it toward the bed, smiling at the satisfying wet smack as it lands on Steve’s chest. It clings to the smooth skin as it slides down to the bed, doing a half roll before coming to a stop, weeping a sugary stain into the sheet.

Steve remains unfazed, though, and Bucky frowns. He chooses one more plum from the bowl, takes a bite, and chews thoughtfully.

He makes a note in his mental mission report. Standard stimuli seem ineffective, lacking the required impact to break supersoldier slumber. Time to deploy Plan B.

✯

Bucky holds the shield aloft and turns it over in his hands. One of these days he really needs to ask Steve about the paint used for the shield, that is some super impressive scratch-resistance. Splaying his fingers wide, he raises it high above his head, takes a deep breath, and... lets the heavy metal disc fall to the floor.

...

_Seriously?_

Bucky rolls his eyes at the muted, entirely unimpressive _thud_ that sounds from the ground - so much build-up for zero payoff. Bucky bends and scoops up the patriotic paperweight with his flesh hand. He draws his metal arm behind his back, flings it forward, and --

**_Craaaaaassshhhh._ **

Bucky tries to shake the vibrations out of his head, succeeding only in making himself dizzy.

Well, shit.

He closes his eyes, quite certain that somewhere, a cartoon version of himself has six outlines, vibrating in and out of view, little pixel birdies flying around his head, tweeting merrily.

When the ringing in his ears finally dulls, he opens his eyes, fixing them on Steve, expectantly. The premature smirk dies a quick but brutal death.

Son of a --

The soft, mocking snores from the bed send him back to the mental drawing board.

✯

Maybe he is going about this all wrong - Steve's accustomed to loud noises. The world is always full of explosions and screaming, and Bucky shouting his name in exasperation. Steve is probably used to it, desensitized, his brain filtering it out as unimportant background noise - just like Wilson's voice.

Sitting an inch away from Steve’s face, he isn’t exactly sure how he'll explain his proximity if Steve were to open his eyes and find them nose to nose, but he can set fire to that bridge when he gets to it - once the mission is complete and there's a mark in the win column.

He draws in the deepest breath he’s able to - a little more dramatically than necessary, filling his lungs, diaphragm, throat, and mouth - pulling in so much oxygen he’s a little dizzy with it, then parts his lips, and blows.

Air dances over Steve’s face in a continual, steady stream.

Steve purses his lips as the air tickles his skin and ruffles the soft strands of his hair, making them lift and fall, fluttering against his forehead. He reaches up a large hand to rub at his nose as the remaining air in Bucky’s body rushes out in a whoosh, his brain already ringing victory bells.

But Steve just grumbles, unintelligibly, and brings his forearm up to drape over his eyes.  
  
Bucky sucks in more air in through his nose just to expel it again in an exaggerated sigh.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Bucky prides himself on always having a backup plan for his backup plan’s backup plan, but Steve - Steve is an immovable object. Literally. Bucky isn’t sure he can move him to consciousness.

✯

Bucky sits on the floor, dejected. Closing his eyes, his head falls back against the hut wall with a loud _thunk._ He grimaces at the sharp pain that flashes through his head, momentarily distracting him from his annoyance, and pulls in a calming breath through his nose. And another. And...

Bucky is almost asleep, Steve’s snoring a familiar and soothing lullaby - and wouldn’t that be the ultimate, ironic mission failure? - when a small nudge against his thigh rouses him.

Bleary eyes blink into focus, landing on the small goat nibbling at his pant leg. He picks up Milkshake and stands, his free hand working the knot in his back. He’s two steps toward the doorway when he stalls.

Oh.  
  
He looks down at the fuzzy, white creature tucked under his arm.

_Oh._

✯

Technically, this is well within the mission parameters - _he_ isn’t touching Steve, Bucky reasons, as he lowers the third goat, Pebbles, onto the bed.

Pebbles promptly jumps onto Steve's groin - Bucky winces in sympathy - and bends to graze on the sheet tucked up under Steve’s thigh. Bark is already settled on Steve's chest, napping - Steve’s slumber apparently contagious to every creature within a five-foot radius - and Milkshake is bleating loudly as he headbutts Steve in the ribs.

“Wha---?” Steve sits upright, arms coming up in a defensive posture, blinking rapidly into wakefulness.

Bucky stills, a foot from the end of the bed, fourth goat in hand. The expression on Steve’s face as he looks down at the bed covered in plums and goats is the funniest thing Bucky has ever seen - and he’s seen Steve accidentally pull his suit on back to front in the dark, slip on his shield - Bucky always tells him not to leave it on the floor - and put a Steve-shaped hole in the wall of the hut.

“Buck--?”

Bucky places Wilson onto the floor and launches himself off it, landing half on the bed, and half on Steve. Disapproval made quite clear by loud bleating, the goats scatter, but he is too busy throwing a mental parade in his own honor to try and stop his four-legged friends from making a bee-line for the exit.

“What’s going on?” 

Bucky doesn’t answer, just catches Steve’s confused face with gentle hands and bends down to claim his lips, savoring the sweet taste of victory.


End file.
